Contradictions (Woodfalls Girls 3)

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. She won’t take me seriously when I try to tell her my feelings. After David’s death, the idea of partying every night just seems pointless to me. And all she wants to do is tell me I’m being dramatic.”

I’m sure I sounded crazy to Derek, but I was trying to make him understand the way I’d hoped Cameo would. Maybe he would run and tell her as soon as my back was turned, but I didn’t care anymore. Eventually, Cameo would learn to adjust to the new me, or she could take a flying leap for all I cared. Or so I told myself.

Derek could tell I was over it and let the subject drop. He suggested a game of poker. I readily agreed. Anything to pass the time. Maybe then I wouldn’t dwell on the fact that I was spending another weekend night at home. Derek made a few calls, rounding up a couple more players.

The night turned out to be more fun than I would have ever thought. Adam and Tim, who joined us, had been dating for years. The way they talked to each other reminded me of my parents. Adam was over-the-top dramatic and terrible at poker. You could tell how good his hand was by the degree of gasp he let out each time the cards were dealt. Tim kept reminding him poker was a game of mystery and the goal was to try and fool the other players, but Adam couldn’t care less about deceiving anyone. Derek thought he had game, but I’d played cards with him enough times to know his tells. If he sat forward in his chair, his hand was good. If he leaned back like he didn’t have a care in the world, he had a crappy hand. It was Tim who was harder to read. I lost thirty bucks to him before I finally figured out his particular weakness. Once I realized he would pat Adam’s knee when he was bluffing, I not only won back my money, but most of his also. It was ironic that I sucked so badly at math but I was a poker stud.

“Damn, girl, you’re on fire,” Adam said as I added another pile of chips to my growing stacks.

“Yeah, thanks so much for the heads-up, Derek,” Tim muttered, frowning at his cards.

Derek laughed. “Don’t feel bad. Tressa always takes everyone to the cleaners.”

“We can always play strip poker if you’re tired of losing money,” I joked.

“Honey, I haven’t been to the gym in weeks, and the way you play, it sure as hell isn’t going to be you sitting here topless,” Adam laughed.

I blew him a kiss. Derek watched me like a protective mother bird. He looked satisfied by the fun I was having.

We ran out to get pizza and beer, which was my treat since I’d taken everyone’s money. When we got back with our goodies, we sat around talking

and joking. Adam and Tim were a lot of fun. It had been ages since I’d sat around shooting the shit with friends when we weren’t at some party. The last time I remember it happening was when Ashton and Brittni were in Woodfalls this past summer.

Cameo returned home while we were hanging out. She staggered in looking more than a little tipsy. I felt guilty. We’d made a pact, and I’d left her high and dry by not going to the party. Chad walked in behind her, so at least she hadn’t walked home alone.

Cameo tugged on his hand, leading him toward her room. He shot us a shit-eating grin before trailing behind her.

“On that note, I think it’s time we call it a night,” Adam said, climbing off the couch. He gave me an exuberant hug before doing the same with Derek. Tim’s hug was more restrained, like he was afraid I’d get the wrong idea if he pulled me in too close. We made plans to hang out again after they chided Derek for hiding me away so long.

“Don’t let her fool you. This is an all-new Tressa. Normally, she’d be hanging from the ceiling or trying to sled off the top of the roof,” Derek defended himself.

They looked at me skeptically, convinced that Derek was messing with them.

“He’s lying. I’m always mellow yellow,” I answered, looking at them demurely. I started laughing almost immediately. “Okay, so he’s right. I’m not exactly a princess, but I’m trying to buckle down a little.”

11.

Meet at my apartment.

I swore under my breath when I looked at my phone. Trent had the texting skills of a baboon. No Hey, let’s meet at my apartment or Hey, I’m thinking we should do tutoring at my apartment tonight. Instead, he comes across like a caveman. It would serve him right if I didn’t show up, claiming I never got his text.

In the end, his suggestion made sense, which was why I didn’t argue. The library had been unusually busy all week. I blamed the cold weather. There was still a week left in October, but it was already dipping close to single digits at night.

I arrived fifteen minutes early and didn’t feel like waiting in my drafty Jeep. I made a point of checking to make sure Trent’s Nissan was in the parking lot before opening my door. It was one thing to walk in the frigid-ass temperatures. It was a whole other thing to stand outside freezing my nips off waiting on Trent. Spotting his car, I reached into my backseat and grabbed my bag before heading for his apartment.

I knocked on his door, thankful I’d had the foresight to grab my gloves before heading out. I was preparing to knock again after he didn’t answer when the door suddenly swung open.

My mild shock turned into downright slap-my-ass-and-call-me-Dixie surprise when I saw how he was dressed, or rather, undressed would be the more accurate description. He answered the door in nothing more than a towel, rendering me speechless.

My mouth dropped open as I took in the very male sight before me. My suspicions about what lay beneath the endless array of geeky shirts he was so fond of wearing had now been verified. Although, even in my wildest of dreams, I’m pretty sure I didn’t imagine this. Not that I had wild dreams about him. At least, not all the time.

With the towel knotted around his waist, I had an up-close-and-personal view of his very defined, and—I loathed to admit—very lickable abs. I wasn’t even sure six-pack was the right word. Running my eyes down his naked torso, I was pretty sure I counted an eight-pack. Eight delicious abs that glistened with droplets of water from the shower he had just stepped out of. My mouth began to water at the sight of him, and I’m pretty sure I even swayed a little. I wanted to reach out to feel if his muscles were as firm as they looked. God, the things I could do to that chest, I thought.

“Hey, you’re early,” he greeted me, using an extra towel to dry his hair. His words were like a torrent of cold water splashed on my face. I took an unsteady step backward. If he only knew how close I had come to reaching out and touching him. How could nerdy T-shirts and glasses hide that much hotness? That was the question. Hell, even his hair looked hot now that it was tousled from the towel dry he’d given it.

I croaked out an answer that was a garbled mess. He looked at me like I’d just fallen off the drunken train. Trying again, I cleared my throat, hoping for something that sounded more coherent. “Too Jeep cold,” I mumbled, realizing as I said it that I had effed it up again.

His look turned to puzzlement as he tried to make sense of my words. “Oh, sorry,” he finally said, stepping back so I could enter his warm apartment. “It’s cold outside,” he added, closing the door quickly behind me. I didn’t bother to correct him. Better for him to think it was the cold that had my tongue refusing to cooperate. Trent didn’t need any more encouragement.